


Ambivalance & Resolve

by tickingclockheart



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nanaba's Father (Mentioned), Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:53:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tickingclockheart/pseuds/tickingclockheart
Summary: He finds her in the messhall, late at night, with a bottle in her hand.
Relationships: Implied Nanaba/Mike Zacharias
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Ambivalance & Resolve

**Author's Note:**

> This is really short, longer than a drabble, but much shorter than an average one-shot. Sorry! If anyone needs me too add more tags, I will! 
> 
> TW: Mentions of child abuse

He finds her in the messhall, a bottle of beer opened, drained to the bottom. There’s another one in her hand. Her eyes look glazed over, and he wonder’s if it’s the beer or something he missed that’s given them that look.

She is a well of resolve and determination, a wildfire, controlled and calculated and often-times quiet, though dangerous if crossed.

So why is it that she’s drinking so late at night?

“Nana.” He speaks, trying to get her attention. Her eyes do not drift from the wall, there is no sign of recognition that she heard him at all.

“He used to drink too, you know.” Her voice is quiet, and the way she says it is regretful, sad. Those who do not know her well wouldn’t her the tinniest tinge of bitterness in those words. The resentment forced under the surface.

“Who?” He asks, because he is curious. She won’t answer if she doesn’t want to, but friends give a listening ear. It’s a repsonsibility.

“My dad.” She says, and her tone is similar, if not a bit sadder.

She doesn’t talk about her family, and he doesn’t ask. It’s an understanding that was never voiced, but breaking it would be a breach of trust.

“Oh?” He’s a man of few words, but in those few words he can say many things. In this case, he’s giving her a place to rant if she wants to, to share what she needs to. No judgement, just someone there.

“There were so many bottles in the living room. All over there, on the floor. He didn’t like to clean, but I hated the filth.” The resentment creeps in on the last sentence, and she spits out the last word with bitterness. “I cleaned it all up. Every day.”

He is silent, but that isn’t uncommon. He makes the silence inviting, at least.

“He threw them at me too, when I tried to clean.” Her voice shakes a bit, but the bitterness remaines. “Grabbed me by the hair a lot. That’s why I cut it, you know?” 

She turns, and looks him in the eye. By her movements, he can tell for sure she is drunk, though the fact that she is telling him this let him know far beforehand. 

He keeps his face calm, but inside an anger festers. He hadn’t had a clue before this. He’d never known. She didn’t talk about her family, and now he knows why. And her pig of a father…well, he has a few things in mind about what he’d like to do to him.

“I’m fucking glad he’s dead.” She spits, then leans back and chugs down the rest of the bottle.

He looks at her, face still blank, but understanding. He doesn’t try to sympathize, Nanaba doesn’t want that. Her usual fruity scent is mixed in with beer, and those he can’t smell it, her grief and anger is palpable.

“I’m glad.” Her voice breaks. “I should be glad, right?” It’s a tone he recognizes, filled with grief and confusion, calling out for help, for anything or anyone to save them.

“I don’t know. I think anything you feel is valid, as long as you know what he did to you isn’t right.” He isn’t the best at giving advice; he’s a far better listener. But he’s willing to do most things for Nanaba.

“I hate him.” She says, in a painful-to-hear tone of voice. “I hate him so much. But I love him too. I still want him to say something nice. I want that more than anything.”

He sees tears leaking down her cheeks, but he doesn’t comment. It isn’t weak, he knows that much. But Nanaba’s a proud woman, and she doesn’t like people to see her in a state like this.

“You’re amazing,” he says gently, “if he couldn’t see that, then that’s his loss. You’re so good to people, and talented.”

“I wish those words were coming out of his mouth.” She speaks quietly.

There’s a silence, for just a few moments.

“I’m tired.” She says, and he nods, standing up. He puts his hand out for her to stand which she does, and gently puts her on his back, grabbing her legs to prop her up and keep her from falling. She wraps her arms around his waist. It’s late enough that they won’t run into anyone.

He walks through the halls, finding her room and putting her on the bed, then pulling the covers over her.

“Go to sleep. You’ll wake up in your bed tommorow.”

“Stay?” She asks, half-lost to sleep already. He hesitates, then spots a chair in the corner. He’s slept in worse places, he decides.

“I’ll be her when you wake up.” He says, sitting down, and trying to get comfortable.

She mumbles something incoherently, and she drifts off to a benevolently dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> So, it’s pretty much canon that Nanaba was abused, right? But I look around for fics adressing this and there’s none. Just, none. Or none that I could find. So, I wrote it. I probably didn’t do it justice, but oh well. 
> 
> In case people didn’t realize, (it was kinda obvious though), the man was Mike.


End file.
